


Falling out of Nothing into Your Arms

by hellostarlight20



Series: Prompts [45]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, One Night Stand, Romance, elopement, mentions of being drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 02:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: When Rose wakes up in a strange place, she has only flashes of the previous night to guide her--and a naked body next to her.Mentions of being drugged but neither Ten nor Rose do the drugging. Mentions of elopement (see notes at the end). Mentions of memory loss.Also HEA, romance, and kissing.





	Falling out of Nothing into Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZoeBelle9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeBelle9/gifts).



> From zoebelle9's 'drabble' prompt: Hiya, For the Drabble challenge, “I thought it was a one-night-stand…and now we’re married…” Ten x Rose?   
> Beta’ed by the ever lovely Mrs. Bertucci (twice!)

When Rose Tyler decided to tackle one thing each day that scared her, she thought she’d approach strangers. Travel alone. Move out of her mum’s flat and into her own. Maybe join a rally and perhaps—and that was a big perhaps—speak in front of the crowd.

She had not expected to wake up in a stranger’s bed. Or was this hers?

Rose blinked around the too-bright room and decided examining the contents wasn’t worth the pain. Her head pounded like the entirety of Britain’s armed forces marched through it. Even her skin ached. Her teeth hurt and felt strangely dry—oh that was gross.

Memory loss scared her, true, but wasn’t on her list of things to tackle. Nope.

She shifted on the bed and oh dear god almighty.

She was naked.

Swallowing around a painfully dry mouth, the heels of her hands pressed to her eyes to both block the entirely too-cheerful sunlight and hopefully keep her brain from exploding, she looked to the side. Rose didn’t want to, she didn’t want to see what she already knew to be true. Sure enough, in the streaming sunlight of the rapidly brightening day, lay a lean male back.

Also naked.

With obvious scratches down his sides. And a mark, several actually, at the base of his spine.

Fan-bloody-tastic.

A one-night stand. All right. She could handle that. Not her first. But this hangover? Drinking to excess wasn’t her. The loss of control scared her and that certainly wasn’t on her list to overcome, either.

Rose tried to move, really she did. Clutching the incredibly soft sheets to her chest—not hers for sure. Her one-nighter had great taste in bedding—in a move that screamed too little too late, she tried to slip out of bed as quietly as possible. Each movement shot fresh agony through her head.

“Oi.”

Closing her eyes, she sighed in resignation. So much for leaving quietly and never acknowledging the man beside her. Then again, all she wanted right now was to close the bloody blinds against the all-too-cheerful sunlight.

London wasn’t meant to be so damned cheerful.

Please let them have at least used protection. Please, please, please.

“What hit me?”

Oh. Ohhh…Rose knew that voice.

Relief spread through her and she sagged forward, leaning her cheek against her upturned knees. The familiar voice sent a warm tingle through her. She remembered it in a hazy, vague way of a dream. Or a night soaked in alcohol and drugs she didn’t do.

“Whatever you drugged me with,” Rose snapped.

Until that moment, she hadn’t realized her brain made those connections. It only made sense, she didn’t drink until she couldn’t remember her night and was super careful about who touched her drink.

“Me?” His voice rose an octave and he promptly grunted, holding his head as if it might fall off and roll away. 

Rose sympathized. To an extent.

“I did not!”

“No,” she said slowly. “No, you didn’t.” They’d had a great time before the haziness took over. That she remembered.

_Great_ might’ve been an understatement. _Fantastic_ time more like. She’d never had such a connection with anyone, let alone a guy, before meeting the Doctor.

The Doctor? Was that right? Was that his name? How odd. Perhaps he was simply _a_ doctor and her besieged brain made it sound more important than it was. Or something. Rose had no idea about anything anymore.

“I didn’t drug you, we—” she heard his frown even though she couldn’t see his face. He’d pulled the pillow over his head. Rose doubted it helped. “We were getting on before then. Laughing and talking and chips. Chips?”

Her stomach lurched at the mention of chips and she hastily swallowed down bile. Rose pressed her hand to her forehead, but it didn’t help. “I remember dancing. And laughing.” 

A lot of laughing. And handholding. Rose stared at her hand as if doing so might help clear her memory. It didn’t. But she swore her fingers tingled with that remembrance—of him holding her hand. They’d run through the streets as if aliens chased them, then ducked…someplace.

He hadn’t drugged her, so he could have sex with her. No, she knew that. But then who had? Something screamed—entirely too loud in her poor, beleaguered brain—that more had happened than her drugging. She remembered chaos. But her head hurt too much to try and grasp onto it, and she let the memory slip away.

“We had a good time,” he said, quieter. “I remember wanting to be in your company.”

His phrasing caught Rose’s attention but just then, the man in question sat up, head in his hands, elbows resting on drawn-up knees. How was she supposed to get a look at him if he refused to brave the day? She had. Sorta.

Removing her fingers from where they pressed against her forehead, Rose decided whatever the man looked like was far less important than the current situation.

“Where are we?” he asked, voice muffled by his sheet-covered knees.

“You—” Rose’s eyes widened. “We’re not at yours?” Narrowing her poor eyes almost instantly, she looked around.

“Huh?” He grunted and lifted his head. It was entirely unfair his hair looked amazing, sticking up like that.

_Beneath her fingers, his hair felt softer than it should’ve. She’d expected the strands, beautifully styled, to be coated in product, but no. Rose scraped her nails along his scalp, mouth a breath from his, and he moaned. The sound shot straight through her and she grinned, closing the distance and kissing him._

Blinking she shook her head and instantly regretted it. Then she met the man’s gaze, wide brown eyes that looked as pained as she felt. Despite that, Rose knew those eyes. She knew them as if she woke up next to them all her life.

_They watched her with a kind of awed-humor to them, hesitant yet endearing. “You’re fantastic, Rose Tyler. I’m so glad I met you.”_

He knew her name at least. Had to count for something though Rose had no idea what. She strained her pounding brain for his name but only came up with Doctor.

_“Where are we going, Doctor?”_

_“On an adventure, Rose Tyler.”_

_He always called her that, Rose Tyler not just Rose, and Rose loved it. Loved the way her name rolled off his tongue. Loved the way his eyes shone, and his lips curved into a happy grin when he said her name._

_“Trust me?” he asked, holding out his hand._

_“More than anyone.”_  
  
Well, there were worse professions for a one-night stand. An adventurous doctor at that.

“This isn’t yours?”

“No.” Rose didn’t shake her head, learned her lesson thanks, but did look around again. “Looks like a hotel.”

But the doctor wasn’t looking at her, but the window. “It’s supposed to rain in London the next couple of days.”

“What?” She turned to look at the very not-rainy skies outside the window.

_He took her hand, so natural Rose barely realized it. “Sky watching. There are a couple dark sky designations in England, I’d love to take you sometime. Lay out and watch the stars.”_

_“I don’t know any of them,” Rose admitted, that sickening tightness around her throat when she had to admit she wasn’t as educated. Not as smart. “Not big on stars.” She tried to laugh but he had none of it._

_“I’d love to teach you. They can be confusing, all those pinpoints of light in a vast sky, but once you get your bearings and know what to look for, it’s really not that hard to remember them. I can teach you a couple tricks.”_

_She felt her smile, slow and hesitant. His own grin widened. Rose deliberately teased the corner of her mouth with her tongue and his eyes zeroed in on that movement. “I’d love that.”_

_“Excellent, Rose Tyler.” He always said her entire name, and she loved the way the sound tingled over her skin. “It’s a date.”_

_“I hope we’ll have more than chips.” She giggled and gestured to the basket she held. “Maybe a picnic dinner?”_

_“Oh, definitely!” He bounced in place and she laughed.  
_  
Rose blinked away the memory even as she held it close. Something in her didn’t want to forget that conversation, drugged or not. “Don’t be stupid,” she said instead. “Why wouldn’t we be in London?”

His eyes met hers, and in the heartbeat before he blinked, Rose had a feeling he remembered something. Whatever it was, he shut it down almost immediately. His brown eyes, which she remembered staring into for hours, shuttered, darkened.

“Well if this is a hotel room, then they have to have room service.” Each movement strained, he fumbled for the phone by the bed and pressed a button.

He winched at the sound from the receiver, and again Rose sympathized.

Rose wasn’t frightened around him, didn’t feel the need to shy away or flinch from his touch. No, whatever happened, and she knew she’d been drugged—no doubting that—the memory flashes, the comfort in his presence, and their time from before the haziness, told a completely different story.

He hadn’t drugged her. Rose knew he hadn’t.

“What are you doing?”

“I need coffee. Or tea. Or something. My head pounds like the ocean and the only way to ease it is with hydration.”

Definitely a doctor. Rose just sighed and looked for something to wear. She needed to pee. Badly. Giving up, to be fair one eye squinted closed, she debated tugging the sheets from the bed but hadn’t the energy for that, either.

“Close your eyes. I need the loo and can’t find my clothes.”

She didn’t bother to see if he complied and slipped from the bed. Oh, yes, an interesting night that was. Her body pulled and tugged in places she hadn’t enjoyed for entirely too long. Pausing by the desk to snatch the complimentary—and no doubt super expensive—bottle of water, Rose opened it and hurried to the bathroom. 

“A pot of coffee and a pot of tea and a carafe of orange juice. Toast and eggs, too. Yes, that’s fine. Yes, for two.” His voice squeaked slightly at that bit, but Rose decided he’d sneaked a peak.

She somehow couldn’t be bothered to glare at him and slammed the bathroom door closed. Oh, that was a mistake. A huge, loud mistake. Rose sat on the toilet in a hotel bathroom in the middle of London or wherever they managed to head after the bar.

Jack’s bar.

Jack.

She growled but knew Jack. Despite his reputation, he’d never, ever drug her. Or anyone. Phone. She needed her phone. Had to call—who? The police? And tell them what? She’d been drugged? Well she had been, but knew, knew, this doctor hadn’t been the one to do so.

Her head pounded, and she drank the entire bottle of water before finishing up on the toilet. Eyeing the shower, Rose decided it’d take room service at least 40 minutes to bring their food and hot water _had_ to do her body good. The water pounded over her head, and she tried to remember what happened at the bar.

Drinks. Dancing. Laughing. Jack winking at her and then at the Doctor. The Doctor? Yes, that felt right. Jack winked at the both of them as they sat at his bar on a busy Friday night and talked over the sound of conversation and music.

Her head pounded again as she gently washed her hair. They’d left for chips, she clearly remembered that, and wandered around London in the dark.

Hand in hand, and damn if her hand didn’t twitch at the memory. Rose also clearly remembered snogging. Lots of glorious snogging and licked her lips as if that might bring the memory to the forefront.

Turning off the water, Rose peaked out of the shower to the rubbish bin. Nothing in there. Her stomach plummeted, but there had to be other bins in the room. Standing in the shower, stalling for time, she tried to remember more.

Food and coffee would help. Maybe then she’d remember having sex with a man she knew she found amazing. Rose opened the shower door and stepped out. She had to face him sometime, and she was hungry even if her stomach protested the very thought of food. Plus she needed to find her mobile.

Today was still Saturday? She hoped so.

Drying off, she wrapped a thickly luxurious, monogrammed robe around her and opened the bathroom door. The Rock Hotel—she’d never heard of it, but there had to be thousands of hotels in London. The man, the Doctor, sat on the bed in the same position she’d left him. He looked like he’d fallen asleep again.

Rose tiptoed past the bed, searching for her mobile. Or clothes. Or anything that looked like hers. She found a shoe by the front door, her bra slung over the desk chair. Brilliant. Looked like she had fun.

“At least we used protection.” She stared into the bin beneath the desk by the telly. Embarrassed, hungover, tired, and yet not as freaked out as she perhaps should be, Rose closed her eyes. “Multiple times.”

“Oh?” His voice deepened, interested and amused. “Good.”

Gathering the items, she also gathered the courage to look at him, phoneless and embarrassed.

“Have you—” she cleared her throat and felt awkwardly stupid— “have you seen my mobile?”

He blinked up, bleary eyed, and looked around the bed as if it might end up there. “Haven’t even seen mine.” He frowned but immediately pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. “Or my wallet. Not sure how we paid for this room.”

“It’s a nice room,” Rose offered lamely and cringed. She had no idea how to behave. On the one hand, logic told her she needed to call the police—someone had definitely drugged them. Her gut told her it wasn’t this man, couldn’t have been him. Rose had no idea what to do.

He cracked a smile and she decided now was as good a time as any. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name. I don’t think,” she added with a frown.

Doctor still stood out at her, but that sounded ridiculous. Just the Doctor?

“Oh. Heh.” He muttered and straightened, though he looked as if he wanted to crawl back beneath the covers. “Doctor John Noble.”

“Nice to meet you, Doctor.” Rose giggled at the familiarity and wished she hadn’t. Even that hurt. “Rose Tyler.”

His face changed, as if her name triggered a memory. “Yes,” he murmured, and Rose knew it wasn’t because his head ached. “I know.”

“Um, shower’s free.” She gestured toward the door, but her gaze refused to move from his. “I’ll wait for room service.”

John—the Doctor—nodded. John just didn’t sit right on her tongue. Rose blushed, which coincided with him climbing out of bed. She averted her gaze, or tried to, and caught only a glimpse of his truly gorgeous backside. Closing her eyes so as not to stare, or look again, she tried not to think of her tongue on him.

When she said multiple times, Rose meant it. Four. Four times last night. No wonder her body felt loose and relaxed, despite the hangover. 

At a loss, Rose lay back on the bed, eyes closed and breathing in the scent of clean sheets and them. Shite.

****  
The hot shower felt amazing on his body and the Doctor stood beneath the spray, eyes closed, mind blissfully blank, for as long as he dared. 

He remembered kissing Rose Tyler. Kissing those glorious lips, body stretched out beneath his, her hands tangled in his hair. He remembered kissing down her belly, tasting her wetness as his fingers slid deep inside her.

Christ. Now he was hard for her.

It was, the Doctor remembered, a condition he’d developed shortly after Jack had introduced them at the bar. He’d never wanted anyone instantly, but Rose Tyler—and he had this fundamental need to say her entire name—changed all that.

He’d wanted her. Oh, he’d moaned and groaned about going out. He’d had a long week of lectures, guest spots on documentaries, and grant writing, but Jack had insisted. The Doctor had never been happier to accept his friend’s invitation as he had been last night.

Rinsing his hair one final time, the Doctor stepped from the shower and toweled off. He debated, for the half-minute his brain agreed to think, just stepping into the bedroom in his towel and picking up where they’d so pleasurably left off last night.

But something pricked the back of his mind. Something he knew he’d remember if whatever drugged they’d been doused with hadn’t interfered. And oh, he’d find out who had done that and stop them. Simmering rage boiled his blood at the thought someone had drugged not only him, but Rose.

Rose Tyler. The Doctor licked his lips, tasting her name on his tongue. That wasn’t all he tasted, the memory of her orgasm exploding over him shot through his veins as if she lay beneath him now.

_“We’ll walk the beach tonight,” he promised as he kissed Rose’s soft skin. “And I’ll show you the stars.”_

_Rose giggled, hands in his hair—a favorite place of hers, he noticed—and sighed. “I think you already did, Doctor.”_

_He grinned up at her from between her legs splayed wide to accommodate him, his fingers brushing her slickness from her most recent orgasm._

_“Going to spend a long, long time doing it, love.” He laughed, unfettered for the first time in ages. Decades. He grabbed her hand and kissed the ringless finger. “After we find you a ring, Mrs. Rose Tyler-Noble.”_

The Doctor blinked at his foggy reflection in the mirror. Ring? Missus? The hotel-provided toothbrush slipped from his fingers and clattered in the sink just as he heard a knock on the door.

Confused, he looked to the closed bathroom door as his brain struggled to catch up with a memory. Mrs. Rose Tyler-Noble. The Doctor looked at his left hand but saw no ring. Nothing. A ring would’ve been—should’ve been a thing he saw or felt or realized way before this, but his finger was bare.

Still, he had the odd compulsion to rub his thumb over his ring finger as if searching for the weight of the ring.

“You can put it anywhere,” Rose said through the door.

He jerked it open, completely uncaring about his state of undress or what the poor unsuspecting employee might think. 

“Rose—”

“Thank you, Mrs. Noble. If you’ll just sign here.”

Rose stared at the poor man as if he sprouted purple wings and green spots on his face. “What?”

He looked uncomfortably at the Doctor now and helplessly held out the check. The Doctor took it, tried not to think of the implications, and scribbled his name plus a generous tip. He handed it back to the man and smiled around a pounding head as he ushered him out the door.

Rose stood exactly where she had been. The Doctor stepped closer to her, but she didn’t move. He took her hand, a move that felt familiar and right and he really tried not to think about that, really he did, and tugged her back to the bed.

“Married?” Rose blinked at him, her hazel eyes wide with shock. “We got married? How is that even possible? Where in London can you elope in the middle of a Friday night?”

“I have no idea.” He sat down beside her, still holding her hand.

“I thought this was a one-night stand,” Rose admitted, blinking slowly. “And now we’re married.”

The Doctor opened his mouth but had nothing to say. He snapped it closed and hell if that didn’t hurt.

“Married?” Rose repeated. “Well.”

“I was not expecting that,” he admitted. “Not that at all.”

“No,” she breathed, refusing to meet his gaze, eyes firmly on their joined hands. “We had chips. I remember that. Then it’s all a little fuzzy.”

“I remember that.” He remembered making love to her but didn’t know how to bring that up just then.

“Coffee?” Rose stood and walked to the breakfast cart. She poured a generous amount of juice and swallowed it down, then poured a mug of coffee. The Doctor didn’t move, trying to place more of their night.

“I wish I remembered our wedding,” Rose joked but her voice hitched.

“I’m sure you looked lovely.” He stood, grabbing hold of the towel around his waist, and stepped beside her. The Doctor had no idea what else to say. Thoughts and words flew through his brain, but he hadn’t the strength to catch any of them.

She wandered to the window, barefooted, hair wet and curling around her shoulders, in the hotel’s bathrobe, and the Doctor couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Then again, he hadn’t been able to since they met.

“Oh.”

Her voice caught, and he stumbled over his feet, at her side before he realized his intent.

“Not London.”

“Oh.”

Nope. Outside, lay a beautiful expanse of beach and ocean. The water lapped at the shoreline, dotted with old-fashioned houses and brightly painted boats moored to an old, wooden dock.

“Definitely not London.”

****  
Rose sat in the chair, legs curled beneath her, coffee cup pressed to her forehead, eyes resolutely closed against the day, the Doctor, and the knowledge they’d married after knowing each other less than a day.

“I should find my mobile.” She didn’t move. Rose had a feeling she should be running around, finding answers, calling people (she didn’t know who) doing something.

“Yeah, call Jack. Your mum.” She heard the Doctor’s agreement, envisioned him nodding. Rose didn’t look up.

“And you. Donna, yes? Your sister.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t move.

Rose knew he didn’t, she didn’t need to look. The warmth of understanding rushed through her, that sense of rightness and knowing. Slowly she opened her eyes, too tired for anything else.

“Married?” He sat in the desk chair, still clad in that ridiculous towel, looking as scrumptious as anything. His chest boasted several marks just below his bellybutton.

Rose blushed hotly at the sight—not his naked chest but the obvious knowledge she’d clearly enjoyed said naked chest. Multiple times. Multiple. She had the absurd need to reach out and take his hand.

Suddenly it broke over her. Everything, all the crazy emotions, the confusion, all of it broke over her and she laughed. The Doctor grinned and wheeled his chair toward her.

“Nothing by half’s, eh?” He shook his head and lifted the cover from one of the plates. He passed one to her, along with the napkin-wrapped silverware. “I did promise you an adventure.”

“Promised me a ring, too.” Rose frowned and stared at her hand as if she could feel his lips there, kissing the bare spot by her knuckle.

“Promised to show you the stars, too, but it’s a little sunny for that.” He looked out the window, but Rose didn’t follow his gaze.

“Seems we promised a lot of things.” She snorted, chewing a bite of egg. “Even the rest of our lives together.”

“That’s a big jump.” He met her gaze and, once more, she wanted to reach out and take his hand, feel the warmth of his fingers against hers.

Rose did so before she could stop herself.

“I’m not one for commitment.”

“As the new Mrs. Tyler-Noble, I beg to differ.” She shuddered. Or shivered. His hand tightened around hers. “I can’t believe this. I feel like I should be more scared, yelling or cursing or trying to figure out a way to divorce you or annul the marriage.”

The Doctor smirked and jerked his chin in the direction of the rubbish bin. “Can’t annul it based on non-consummation.”

Rose snorted a giggle. “No, I guess not.”

“When I find out who did this—” his face darkened, and his hand gripped hers. He didn’t sound at all like the carefree man she had met and apparently married last night— “I’ll make them pay.”

“Justice.” She blurted the word before her brain caught up with her reasoning. “We’ll get justice. No need to seek revenge.”

It taunted her, the knowledge she knew more than she remembered. The Doctor’s past—he’d been deployed. Alone. It sat there, heavy and hurting in her heart. Death. So much death. He’d been a physician before earning his PhD in astronomy. She remembered that now, remembered him telling her on the plane.

_“I’m a doctor of a lot of things. I became a physician to help others. To heal. But then I joined the army. My country needed me—the soldiers needed me. I had to help. It’s where I met Jack.”_

_“He said you saved his life.” Rose leaned her chin on his arm as the plane bumped slightly through turbulence. She tried not to think about that and held onto the Doctor. “Said you saved all their lives.”_

_The Doctor snorted and pulled her closer, kissing her forehead and holding her tight. “I didn’t. Couldn’t save all of them. Not even enough of them.”_

_“You can’t save everyone. You’re not God. Those you did save, they remember. Like Jack.”_

_“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, but she couldn’t let it go. Didn’t want him thinking that about himself._

_“Doctor. Doctor, look at me.” She wrapped her free hand around the back of his head, threading her fingers through his amazing hair. “You have to focus on those you did save. Remember those you didn’t but focus on those you did.”_

_He stared at her a long, long while, but Rose didn’t look away or back down. Finally she added, “I don’t know what you went through. What it’s like carrying—but I do know you. Even if we’ve only known each other a few hours. And you’re a good man, Doctor.”_

_“What did I do to deserve you, Rose Tyler?”_

_She kissed him, soft, gentle, as if he’d break. “I think you said it best in the chippy. I’m so glad I met you.”_

Here in their hotel room in Gibraltar where they’d managed to elope, Rose set her plate of half-eaten food aside. “Are you willing to try?”

The words scared her, the emotion behind them—the hope and fear and warm affection she didn’t fully understand. But she promised to conquer things that scared her. Relationships terrified her.

“I’m—I don’t know if I told you, but I’m really bad with relationships. Like spectacularly so.”

The Doctor snorted and stood, pulling her up. “I’m afraid I’m no better. You married a man who, until he couldn’t remember his actions, only ever committed to saving others.”

“And the stars.” Rose combed her fingers through his hair. “I distinctly remember that.”

He offered a faint grin and pulled her close. “You barely know me, Rose Tyler.”

His voice brushed over her, warm and enticing and Rose knew why they’d made love four times. How had she managed to keep her hands off him before the hotel room? Or had she? Much of the plane ride remained fuzzy, but she didn’t think she joined the mile-high club.

“You don’t know me, either.” She shrugged. “No idea how marriage got involved.”

“I believe it was something about spending the rest of my life with you.” He dipped his head and kissed her.

Rose sighed into the kiss, lost in the hazy memories and vivid life of his lips on hers.

“I want to try.” He tucked her head beneath his chin and Rose had never felt so safe or comforted—or alive—in her life.

****  
They eventually found their mobiles, turned off and hidden in a drawer, and called Jack, who was thrilled they were all right. And, because he was Jack, whooped when they admitted they’d eloped to Gibraltar.

Jack also explained one of his former employees, now in jail, spiked all the drinks that night in a stupid bid for revenge against Jack for firing him. Jack apologized, profusely, but in the next breath demanded pictures of their wedding.

Rose didn’t call her mum until they’d returned to London. Three days later. The Doctor texted Donna to tell his sister he was alive but refused to admit what had happened.

That was for after. After walking the beach and hiking up the rock to look at the stars. After the Doctor’s astronomy lesson and Rose’s picnic dinner, and after they returned to the hotel and made love again.

Because once in a great while, when you fall, there are warm, strong, loving arms to catch you.

**Author's Note:**

> If you’ve been sexually assaulted, please call for help. This is the US number **National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-HOPE**. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Being drugged and date raped is no joke. 
> 
> Getting married in Gibraltar isn’t as lackadaisical as I made it seem. There are still rules and a waiting period, and the registrar’s office is open normal business hours, not all hours of the day and night. It’s not like riding up to Gretna Green and getting married in the Regency. http://www.awaywithmaja.com/eloping-europe-get-married-gibraltar/


End file.
